


Call the Calling-Off Off

by windsorblue



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-14
Updated: 2010-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsorblue/pseuds/windsorblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bit of 3x4x5 fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call the Calling-Off Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maria chan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=maria+chan).



"Oh, _God!_ Really?"

Trowa glanced up from his magazine at Wufei, who peered back over his book. "What'd you do now?" Trowa said.

"Nothing! Who says it was me, anyway? Maybe you did something!"

"_I_ didn't do anything."

"Well, neither did _I_!"

They heard Quatre coming down the stairs, each footfall a temper-fueled stomp. When he got to the open doorway of their living room, he had a pair of black socks in his hand and steam coming out his ears. "Whose socks are these?"

Trowa pointed at Wufei. "His."

"What? No! Those aren't...wait, yes, actually, they are mine. Why?"

"Why?" Quatre closed his fist around the socks, shaking them slightly. "Why?" He was moving toward Wufei with something that looked like malicious intent in his eye. "Because they were on the bloody _floor_ a foot away from the bloody _hamper_, that's why!"

"Here we go," Trowa muttered.

"I was going to do laundry later," Wufei began.

"Later, when? After your socks sat there long enough to gain sentience and find their own way to the machine?"

"Oh, please," Wufei replied.

"Seriously! You know this irritates me! I swear to God you do it just to piss me off!"

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," Wufei sniffed.

"The hamper is _right bloody there_ \- how hard can it be to put your damned dirty socks inside? It's disgusting, having dirty socks all over the house!"

"Not so disgusting that you can't pick them up and wave them around, I see," Wufei said. "And not as disgusting as you not rinsing your dishes before you put them in the dishwasher!"

"I...what..." Quatre spluttered, looked down at Wufei's dirty socks clenched in his fist, made a face, dropped them where he stood and wiped his hand on his pantleg. "Listen, there's absolutely no sense in washing the dishes before you wash the dishes!"

"Except that the dishes don't get clean that way! You put your dishes in the machine without wiping them off first, and you end up with chunks of food stuck on there like plaster."

"It's a waste of perfectly good water!"

"We aren't living in the damned desert, are we?"

"No, but that's no excuse to waste water!"

Wufei let a loud, gutteral growl out. "Are you trying to make me crazy?"

"I could ask you the same question, couldn't I?" Quatre shouted.

Trowa turned the page of his magazine, and the soft crinkling of paper was just loud enough to turn all the attention in the room onto him. He looked up into the sudden quiet, realized he was the object of two stares, and brought the magazine down a bit. "What?"

"Well?" Quatre said.

"Don't you have anything to add to the conversation, here?" said Wufei.

Trowa glanced back and forth between the two of them, did it again, and said, "You snore."

"Who snores?" Quatre and Wufei demanded simultaneously.

"You both do," Trowa said, and then he went back to his magazine.

Quatre said "What?!?" at the same time Wufei insisted, "I do NOT snore!", and Trowa put the magazine down again.

"Yours," Trowa said, pointing to Quatre, "Is actually kind of cute. Kind of like Cathy's when her allergies are acting up. You, however," now he pointed to Wufei. "You snore like a band saw. I've been meaning to speak to you about it, actually."

"What..." Wufei spluttered. "What do you mean, speak to me about it?"

"You should see someone," Trowa replied. "I'm concerned for you - one of these nights you're going to choke or something. People die from snoring, Wufei - it's not to be sniffed at."

"What...nobody ever _died_ from _snoring_, for God's sake!"

"No, they do actually," Quatre put in. "It's called sleep apnea, and Trowa's right, it's nothing to ignore." Quatre turned to Trowa. "Really? That's Wufei? I always thought it was the dog..."

Wufei seized on this. "It is the dog!"

"No, it's Wufei. Although the dog snores, too."

"I do not snore!" Wufei insisted.

"Well, it's common for that breed, I suppose," Quatre said.

Trowa nodded. "It's the pushed-in nose. That's why he drools so much, too."

"Hm," Quatre said. "Wait. Did you just tell me I snore like your sister?"

Trowa's eyebrow arched. "Yeah..."

"So...I snore like a _girl_?"

"...Well..." Trowa began.

"No," Wufei insisted. "We don't snore at all!"

"Easy for you to say!" Quatre put in. "At least you snore like a man!"

Trowa put a hand to his forehead, fingers massaging. "Oh for God's sake..."

"For the last time, I don't snore - it's the dog."

"It's not the dog, Wufei," Trowa said calmly. "It's you. The dog snores like this." And he proceeded to demonstrate: a low, wheezing goose-honk of a sound that made the dog perk up his ears and cock his head questioningly. "You, on the other hand, snore like this." This time the noise was louder, less measured - more like a bear growling through a wet burlap sack, and definitely the sort of thing that could rouse a person from a sound sleep. The dog let out a little whimper.

"Good lord," Quatre said.

"There's no way in hell I make a sound like that," Wufei said insistently. "That has to be the dog."

"It's you."

"Prove it."

Trowa got up from his chair, put his magazine down on the seat cushion, and walked over to where Wufei was sitting. He put his hands on the arms of Wufei's chair and leaned down, right in Wufei's face. "I know it's you," Trowa said, his voice tight with a mix of frustration and amusement, "Because after a good fuck, neither one of you snores at all."

Wufei blinked a couple of times. "Oh. Well in that case..."

Quatre's eyebrows shot up. "Maybe we should be having sex every night, then. In the interest of everyone getting a good night's sleep, of course."

Trowa turned his head to look at Quatre. "Can we forget about the socks, then? For now?"

Quatre half-smiled. "Sure. For now."

Trowa turned back to Wufei. "And can we forget about the dishes as well?"

Wufei smirked. "For now."

"Good. Because I, for one, am ready to turn in for the night."

Quatre and Wufei glanced at each other. "It's only 3:30," Quatre began.

"It's nap time, then." Trowa replied. He grabbed Wufei's arm and hauled him up out of the chair. He looked at Quatre and said, "Are you coming or what?"

"Yes, sir," Quatre said. And he took Trowa's waiting hand.


End file.
